who do i think i am? (an exercise)

I am an empath. I am a mystic. I am Aquarian. I am stubborn. I am blunt. I am courageous.
I am g-fluid. I see most concepts on a continuum. I suffer from abandonment. I suffer from
attachment, enmeshment. I am a caretaker. I easily lose myself. I am a writer. I am a loner.
I am a bitch. I am a drama queen. I can be selfless. I can be selfish. I strive for the middle
path. I am Taoist. I face my shadow. I become fearful under stress. I become loyal when
I live from my heart. I am intellectual. My head is the most dangerous place for me to live.
I love all my friends to the extent that they are lovable. I dislike & scrutinize any judgments.
I am often misunderstood. I am not afraid to challenge your judgment of me, nor to shed
you from my life if you cannot relieve yourself of heavy judgment of me. Expect me not to
meet your expectations of me. I am a rebel. I strive for flexibility, and I will surprise you.
 I am a good listener. I am spiritual. I love life. I am not afraid to die. The soul never dies!
I will love you if you let me. I will be honest to the best of my ability. I will be curious and
expect the unexpected. I am prone to depression and anxiety. I am never a victim. I make
mistakes, and learn best by doing. I have degrees in literature, psychology and street science.
I will meet you where you are. I manifest right here right now. I find wholeness and fullness
by my presence in the very moment. I need my own private Idaho. Catharsis and alchemy
strengthen my spirit. Extremities can kill me, if i reside there too long. I can become hurtful
toward self and others. I can become lost. I have many many times been lost and suffered
out on some edge. Yet comfort & luxury put me to sleep. Hibernation. I live through carrying
out my purpose, which remains half unknown.

The mystery is in becoming...change is inevitable...fortune has favored me and so i am
grateful...when i work i work best when
allowed freedom to manifest.... i work hard and selflessly. those who know me know
of my compassion & loyalty, yet also of my unpredictability. I am terminally unique. Just
try and pin me down! I may be 2 steps ahead, existing in new paradigm. Maybe self-centered,
 hypersensitive, subtle sense of energy, transpersonal, blunt to the point of cruelty,
eloquent or slippery like a chameleon, or simple, simply complicated! you will find me
in the light. love and light to you. i offer white light of protection, as i have been so often
protected by many goddesses. i give what i have been given, for when i try and hold on
to anything too tight, i fall away from the light. self-sabotage burns my skin. i am full
and smiling, though i appear thin. see me and i will see you. here in the light.

coffee with the one & only cousin of death

I met with her , the cousin of death, for 5 days and nights.

photo by Katya 2010

and believe me. that was enough. you may not believe i am a writer (anymore)  by how i now write. believe me. its colloquial. contextual. individual. personal. all that you ever dreamed it might be if you could find your way into anothers heart. mind. spirit. soul. sounds juicy, doesn't it? well it might be. or i might just be raw and half-dead. having just had coffee. had tea. had my intersection with the cousin of death. sorry if it sound cold. more to be revealed... give me time. please. im exhausted. weary. travelled far. hardly made it. only the tears dripping down the window could stir me. could wake me. could shake me. remind me. well. the tears and the ten week old little sisters running circles round my bed. round my room. round my head. vrrooommmm!!

photo by katya 2010

and thanks. im glad you waited. hallow's eve? its my favorite night. 
we have survived! we are survivors. if that's the most i can say  to make it ok,
well then -- alright.

need u by my side...fragment I

 i was bad off....they thought i wasn't, but i was aware of it....i thought a long time about doing somethin' about it....then i tried ....i had to wait....watch reruns of the Outsiders....locate patience in my stressed, tired self....sit silently on my knees in front of the virgin mary and the Buddha on the sacred space in one corner of the living room... until i could feel life wasnt so hard....until i figured things out...until circumstance figured me out, ya, i guess sometimes the tide took me strong. but not without a fight.

 i had my r'aison d'etre...full presence through breath, posture, mantra, observation, non-judgment, affirmation.... YES.... various choices at any given moment... and no moment received without gratitude....no moment assumed, no moment a given. every moment i was breathing, every moment i was living.

i found myself often up against some damn ice cold resource department. the freezer.  i was bad off like i said. they demanded rigorous protocol....i could not keep from naturally drawing outside the lines...fucking the receptionist...fucking the receptionists boyfriend... soon i stopped working under such conditions... where others stumbled over words at water fountains in the early nineties air con cubicle societies...i did not want others to feel scared where they worked.

then i got a little lost. Confused in my mind...for days...and my aforementioned working relationship formally ended with a letter informing me of my 'termination'. this was a difficult word to receive. i cried alot. a lot. I cried so much that day. i was lost, ya. lost! 

the feeling became so emotional high tide, delicious after the confines of pseudo walls, plants and personas. my freedom i held dear,  my presence -- my manifold experiences as they presented themselves...this was nothing terminal, no --this was my commencement! i was bad off, yeah, but not like they said, not for their reasons. I was bad off to be there, in concentric circles. In protocol, demanded, for nebulous reasons. The black sheep is known wide, to weather all seasons. 

No more feelings of anxiety & worry & how to be, wu-wei. Feelings of gratitude towards life rolled me in waves --arose in the new space created. Then subsided. Feelings! May you continue on! The streets they are rough... yet look so polished,  end to end. Cold and unfeeling, these streets can be. For some children these sidewalks are warm enough for colored chalk and hopscotch. Jumping over jump ropes and empty bottles of scotch. For some these streets are home. The same city streets after dark they just change. Men walk with knives tied to ankles or wrists. Daylight brings women with shopping lists. Those who do know these streets know to walk slow, chin up. Check out the fresh tags. Stay out of reds and blues. Dress in black and white. Midtone grey. True to you. Let your eyes scan.  Hey, Here comes the dope man! Turn away, turn away, or just stay on course and walk forward. meet them all with fresh eyes. May truth be your mainstay; may compassion be your courage.

SOMA district. san francisco. 7am.

october. a sunday morning

Black leather
square heel
witch pumps
touch down

twenty ten. october
sunday morning

i got him
got us
simple
oatmeal

he got up
he gets me
its simple

 i
i got her
i thought so
i think so...
i wonder

held her 
heard her
 stayed close
with her

she
she got me
i thought so
she thinks so
she says so

 took me
held me
stayed rightby me

its hard
2 really
know

its hard when
we dont know

harder still
when we dont know
we dont know

to feel
ones own heart beating
may be
ones only comfort
these days


 i found
tabby marked
kitten sisters

4 sale
street corner

got lucky
for sure
i sure did!

now
watch them
wrestle out
all 8 weeks
of them
on
hardwood
sunday
floors

magazines
got style
fleur de lis
nail file

streaming radio
breaking news

somewhere
in
inside us
you & me
i see where
we cross
where we stream...

i see a child
HD video
streaming
still a blur

broken waves
strewn across
sand bars...

long forgotten
lost dreams


hey girl
hey guy
(u do know who u are)

do you wonder?
or wonder why?

the difference
is remarkable.
like a laugh is
to a cry

anyway
no worries
give them all a big big kiss!

in a
subtle
barely touched lips
really meaningful
kinda
way

 love U today
best i can
and pray
 you love you
too

any
every
if only
sunday
you may

hell
that aint all.

any
every
 lonely
  single
    day

adrienne and may the faded

and may i ...

never
ever
neverever
have to
be so


fix
fixed
frozen
focused

to
til
until

hyper
hypervent
hyperventilated

edge
edgy
child
desire
adult
adulterated

cease!
cess
or
censor
in
cense
incensed!
sensed

sense
or
less
senseless
senselessness!

my movements

every
single
soul
less
self
less
lessened
loosened
loose
ends

tied
tight

the
end
the
adrenalin

dear
adrienne!
nalin
nail
null
nulled

- 0 +
in
to
into
toward
to get it!
have
hold it!

fill
feel
fall

hold it
how?
hold it now!

and then...

cry
cried
breathe
breathing
shallow

shall
allow--

hit it!
!
(!)
()
ow
((oww))))
awww

'impalace' 09-10  kwm author / kkila edit

ahh
/
//
//// low \
allow
all low
hall -/-/-/----

hollow
0

on
 traumatic
repetition
of
dramatic
indulged
misguided
miss
missing
miss inge
ingen
in gen
genx
x rated
xrated
x

deflated
x
xx
xxx

drop
out.
fade.
fate
fast
fated --

forgiven,
forgotton...
and

faded

--
Katya

peacock parallel. II of II

• peacock parallel. II of II
• Some held on to the heart against the tide of opportunists comin in waves, imploring, fronting weak currency, and invitations to postmodern raves... 
• If you’re green, they offer you TLC, measure your accounts wide and generous to match your pre-disposition. and you become you-with-a-twist, like you in the hottest djs androgynous demolition mix.

• you might like your new self, well I’m sure. (a good representation of your gendereckless world, of the highest moral irreverence and lowest on the brainwash standardized academic scale).  And rather than dumb you down, you got street wise, anyone says otherwise is a clown.

are there pharmaceuticals in your purse? what? for your current need...or your malingering desire. you have your ready line?  ativan for emergency purposes, stress of flat tires on the side of highway, broken down, when the anxiety hits you like a live wire. they suspect you now sing bare and tone, in the klonopin choir.

 
years and years of tales of  those who sanctioned such impurities, traded off for karmic insecurity.  late night throw-downs at quarterly earning heights, forcing our moms and pops to open shops for genx non-events.  taste testing of researched synergies of  astral planes. backstage passes for old ladies who run the indoor mood stabilization track. 

Lamictal-ly immersed, Valproic proclivity, then some pill co. announced the end of confidentiality. As a celebration, of course, freedom from your secrets. The parties endless, the movie screens raped, the ad campaign put out, all of this was taped.

Models skirts go up,  all the boys shout. Eyes  narrow. Under the ampsalt rush of 30ccs gone straight to the marrow. wannabe Mia Farrow. she saw them inject her ex-husband. she saw his response. she saw the new light in his eyes. just before she would no longer know him. of a thousand different ways they would interact... not once could she know him.
everyone needs a little help when rivers of same source break the parallel in-aqua-cess-ence in the pool, in the mix. Shadows embracing in the light, sent back to the dark to fade out to darkness and move unseen in untold darkness of controlled space night. no light. ..a quiet place... Toward the steady length of shadow, most refuse to look! Those spun into vertigo, spun away, invertigone! The black lights set upon. The white flags demarquing orgies canvassed the fertile land near dawn.

Below the pleasant scenery lay the unseen and even trampled on the ground. That was not okay. So it was pressed until it seemed hidden. Still it remained, unseen. This was okay somehow.

But it all started so harmlessly, the evening! out to dine merger, fine starched shirts, table red wine, Italian restaurants: joie de vivre! every cut of bone yard on the menu: eye of rib, filet for broiler. an establishment of potent sociopathy pervading dark halls, and smiles alike left plastered on the walls. 

*

Katya 2010

Future leaders of the world, hear this: bloodshed is no foreign element to those who have it all!

eastern edge of western world, may she be so very sharp yet non-violent. meet the west in a flash! submit? -- NOT AT ALL.
any less would be cowards fare, stress, paranoia, the fall of truth. pulling of teeth. pulling of hair. why suffer here? just be aware. they want you to get dirty, down on your knees, so to support their understanding of the abject poverty of your ideas, your philosophies, your creed, they look upon with contempt. they reach for something they believe lies above them. like sky worshippers posed out! like skinny models situated in hipsters! you are the shredded silks and rayon they pick like berries. try you on.  Okay you may send in the children. Now go. Go stare at them meditatively. 

Okay okay. Some may slumber in good thoughts of their own honorable installments. Do not forget you must be sharp! crush them (gabapentin) and get neurons back on pathways . Sir? Ma’am? as the evening progresses, why not? stare back at their focused a-style stares. seek invitation to penthouse superior lairs. enjoy yourselves. pharmaceutically. without cares.

Liquid cooled chairs. political minds refined to mastery. narcissistic-friendly egos. hand jobs for logos. Printed all over the ass of their vestments.
Assuage the suede macrophage, esophageal bellowed cause of contented singularities -- quelle dommage! 
Can it get more confusing? Add astrological anomalies to your day. Triple Taurus 3-play. Will wrongdoing become self-evident? Will you get up and do all the doing? they sit contented, its the law. while you work hard and get paid and settle vices and poison self, with whatevers below ascent to top shelf. The rules only they can bend. They  are not actual: just present to you as friends.

Perched on skyscraper bars, buying rounds alternately and with a quick tempo... mindful in the moment to decease some person, place, or unmedicated idea. Before being called upon to surrender keys to their model year foreign luxe cars, they weigh their kilos, smoke their cigars.
The ones who tell you they will sell your wares? do you fall into line? fall into the easy rhythm,  pull out their chairs?  the laughter-- is it to be mistaken for the source of shed so many tears? their hot dry airs exhaust and exhaust.  it wears.  pret-a-porter in that apathetic kind of who cares kind of you gotta be kidding sorta way.
For conscious one and all to ignore such a sight was not possible. the language that came forth between the lines of the foreheads peripheral? always of a demanding nature toward a hopeless situation. yet hidden under shock of hair, the shock that filled the air. questions of conduct. and the paperwork that backed it. legal parameters sorted, stapled and faxed it.

Familiar. with contempt. they came out of the boardroom with erections and pro phalactics. not to mention shady tactics. they would wait to rise on gasses internal, to covet passes to VIP eternal.

The peacocks! the Tit-E fuckers! On all 2s to subjugate those on all 4s! Behold them in seersuckers.to grasp young ankles in between world tours!
We almost expected lobotomy to answer to the ongoing global mental health crisis of collective unconscious non-economy. All solution was subject to dilution with consequential pollution to cloud any vision. Less and less clear to the most compassionate of providers, whatever any kind of thoughtful conclusion.  no one could see the forest, no one could see the trees. Under heavy bank of pharmaceutical cloud- E. The peacocks put their colors on the line - ya -- strip tease. just the knife going in deeper, it seemed. all reasonable careful internationally branded plans shredded. fin.

or does it ever end? forgetful, must we begin again? try harder? go farther. excavate all around the central lobe. Cavity produced by the TV...

Props to you who missed the parade deliberately ... you who knew better how to cope ... (oxytocin, the last of the wild, the dope) you who stayed in bed and got laid.

stop throwing branded claymation at generic nation

think before you throw this.  please. think until your emotions  rest, come to peace. the foundation will not be lost, the cause will still hold true. do not let that tick of time push push push you to some unsatisfactory way of doing. reaction too hot. requires some recalibrating, some cooling. some vacant nature grown through asphalt urban lot...

turning blue now, the way we do now. shadows maybe, evening maybe fall. the pine trees stand so tall, so very tall. and we sway like this, side to side, side and back, our capillary needles, little felt at the micro essential level, waving just waving yes-- waving like any head of any state whose driven, woven up and down by the town the city  embraces this your arcade, your motor arcade, your esplenada ticker tape remoulade.

southern shore color pink. pale pink with a neon craving. your feel you feeling the comfort of the cushion of the cloud softened sky and milk softened bourbon and faces softening and melting like ice cream in the heat of the lone star in the sky kind of intimate kind of relating kind of day kind of way, down yes down your special silk socks curbed with velvet and heeled out with suede so fine could walk you on the moon, they say, could walk you on the moon, bay bay.

turning yellow now like sunshine the coin and the dime silver coat drip off the copper. and she throws the clothes all around your face before you like to get your attention, snaps the linens torn off the cord in the yard you stretched in a gesture of non-violence.  familys longjohns dryin in the yellow sundrip, kissed by the sun, the solar lip trip - you gonna get when she next stages the biblical reading over your head and over the land, oh men. man. woman. sundress and sundries. yellow gold hues deep as the living gray yellows of tidal pool sucking sand. let her leave you and join the band, go far on tour. read her love notes and splash through her pretty pictures as you roll around half-in-love with your hardwood floor.

turning red. turning pink. turning pale yellow like some late fifties pontiac sold off to Cuba, buried in the ground with harleys and then unearthed and found, naturally preserved treasures of the earth, vive la difference. vive la net worth. when cuba libre gets diluted, thats when all goes to hell, you know....

when cuba libre gets diluted
when american dollar became something worth more than your local currency
when velvet underground became pop rox
when someone with a passionate voice is told to kick rocks
when we let go of our dreams, it seems
when the fear smacks us like million candle power light beams
when the plastic mould meets old steel mill, oversold
when appalachia meets media whore
and takes her on,  on tour. takes her cause he can...

when the red carpet takes on the other colors
the colors of yours and mine
cause you are ready to go
and you told me so
its been a half hour
and you thought i should know
so

i guess now i know
fuck
now i know
now ....

<>   -Katya 2010

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